A Letter to my Dad

byJarieLyn

419 followers

6 months ago

I posted a copy of this letter to my Instagram and my Substack. I want the world to know how special my dad was.

Dear Joe,

It’s hard to believe this is the second Father’s Day without you here. I miss you more than words could ever express—we all do. Your time on this Earth was far too short. Then again, maybe your work here was done.

I don’t know exactly what happens after we leave our physical bodies, but I do believe your spirit still lingers close. Sometimes I swear I can feel you near, like a soft whisper in the room. Other times, I search for you in the quiet and come up empty. But even in that silence, I know you’re still with us.

You weren’t just the man who married my mom. You were my dad. The one who showed up. The one who stayed. I still smile thinking about how lucky we were that it was you she chose—or maybe you chose her. Either way, you were a gift. A true blessing from God.

I looked up to you in every way. Your storytelling could stop a room—hook us in with that slow drawl and keep us laughing until tears spilled down our cheeks. Your patience was unmatched. Truly. I’ve never met anyone who could let things roll off their back the way you did. Especially when it came to Mom’s nagging (you know it’s true). You just brushed it off like water off a duck. I still admire that about you.

Mom, on the other hand, knows exactly how to push my buttons—bless her heart—and I don’t know how you kept your cool all those years. But you did. And through it all, your love for her never wavered. Just like your love for us kids. Me, Cheryl, Bobby, and Joey. We were damn lucky to have you.

I miss watching you and Mom dance at those live band gigs. I miss hearing you say, “Man, I feel like a million bucks today.” I miss your laughter, your grin, and your eyes lighting up over some new business idea. I miss the simple act of sitting beside you.

I’m especially grateful for that RV trip with you and Mom, even if it was the trip from hell. I’m glad we did it. And I still laugh remembering how, just a week or so before you passed, you brought up going to Tennessee. I said, “Are you sure you want to travel with us again, after that RV trip?” And we both cracked up. God, I treasure that moment.

Joe, I want you to know how much I love you. And how deeply I miss you. When I’m feeling low, I try to channel your positivity. I think about what you wrote in the Christmas journal one year: “Look forward, not back. Be happy, not sad, no matter what moment you’re in.” I carry that with me. I carry you with me.

My only regret is that I never wrote you a gratitude letter while you were still here. I had made a vow to write one each week, and you were at the top of my list. I hope somehow you know how thankful I am—for your love, your laughter, your wisdom, and your unwavering presence.

Cheers to the most positive, kind, intelligent, and upbeat person I’ve ever known.

Happy Father’s Day, Joe. I hope you’re smiling down on us. I hope you’re proud of who we’ve become. And I hope you know how proud we are to have called you ours.

I love you—my dad, my confidante, my mentor, my rock.

Thank you for everything.

With all my heart,
JarieLyn

Wherever you are, I hope it feels like a million bucks today.